At night, when The Angels
Surround my bed
And
Support me
And
Tell me
That it is not yet my time
To
Cross over,
They show me all colors
And
Remind me that my Mind’s Eye
Is
Not colorblind.

At night, when I converse
With
Those who have crossed
And
Read their words
Printed on red leather pages
And
Journey in the dream world
With
Their souls joined to me.

At night, when I see
Beyond
My waking world
As
Angelic essences swirl
Above
My dream bed.

At night, sweet night
Of
Conscious
And
Lucid dreaming
When
I fly about
And
Know such things
That
The waking me
Can’t
Yet embrace:
At
Night
I am emancipated…